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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943389">silence speaks (loud and clear)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreamer5187/pseuds/Daydreamer5187'>Daydreamer5187</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StegesaurusKay/pseuds/StegesaurusKay'>StegesaurusKay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(brief) - Freeform, BAMF John Laurens, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Hunted For Sport, Hypothermia, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Period-Typical Homophobia, The Most Dangerous Game, They All Get Whumped, Traps</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:40:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreamer5187/pseuds/Daydreamer5187, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StegesaurusKay/pseuds/StegesaurusKay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Alexander wake up in a strange place, confused and bound. Their host greets them with a smile and introduces them to the game: survive, or don't; they'll be hunted tonight regardless.</p>
<p>Inspired by "The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard Connell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton &amp; Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, John Laurens &amp; Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>silence speaks (loud and clear)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title comes from the song "Dangerous Game" from "Jekyll &amp; Hyde, the Musical."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He considers himself a fair man, there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>rules </span>
  </em>
  <span>to this, rules that are not broken, even if he is the god of this game. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is snowing, which makes the game more difficult for his prey. He's not to harm them before the game starts, so he must wait for them to awaken on their own, and not splash them with water to speed it along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if the thought of hearing them choke through the gags makes him grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, rules. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The slightly larger of the two boys wakes first, and his reaction is much like most of the others. At first he’s groggy, seeming to consider going back to sleep. He rolls to the side and his eyes suddenly open wide. The realization hits that his hands are bound, and there’s a cloth stuffed in his mouth. The boy sits up and spots his companion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he sees his host. He shouts something into his gag and shifts in front of the smaller boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s funny. This high born boy protecting a worthless little thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy there, Colonel Laurens,” He smiles. The boy is still wobbly even on his knees. Were he to try to stand he’d surely topple over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mumbles something into the gag, futile as it is, and glares at the man, demanding, no doubt, that he explains what is happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t understand his position yet - that he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>now, that his humanity has been stripped with the leathers binding his wrists together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t rush,” he coos, “you’ll only hurt yourself prematurely.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another angry grunt, a brief struggle with the bonds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost endearing, how much power they think they still have. The belief that struggling will </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything, that they can somehow get away and outwit their </span>
  <em>
    <span>foolish captor. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It happens every time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But one way or another, they always understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hamilton stirs then, following the same pattern his lover did. Worthless little whoreson, dragging a high born, promising young man to Hell with him, in this world and the next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re confused, that’s okay.” He crouches next to Laurens, twirling a stray piece of the boy’s hair idly. “You wouldn’t be here, if not for him,” he whispers, almost gently. “You deserve more than this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Laurens boy makes another sound, indignant, and his eyes narrow sharply. He might understand what he’s trying to say if he’d bother to try.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw the two of you earlier in the hall past the stairs,” He pulls harder at Laurens’ hair as he recalls the memory, burying his fingers in the locks and forcing his neck to a painful arch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They thought they were alone. It was innocent enough, an almost chaste kiss and conspiratorial grin. Giggling, like they were in some secret love affair, innocent as lambs and lovestruck as children. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If that little bastard hadn’t been involved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s why he’d offered to General Washington to accommodate the two aides travelling with him for the night. The general has gone on ahead, he’s miles away by now. Everyone is miles away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles at the two boys. This is his favourite part.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re going to play a game.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>He follows the rules. He gives them an hour’s head start. Usually he gives half that time, but with the snow the boys will have a harder time trying to conceal themselves. He doesn’t want his game over too quickly. It’s enough time for the lightly falling snow to cover their tracks near the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boys are allowed their coats, and a gift </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> more generous than he usually offers: he gives Colonel Laurens his pistol and a single bullet. When he ushers them outside Hamilton is still unsteady on his feet, his eyes hazy. Perhaps he was given a little too much of the drug for his small size.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah well.. Not everything’s perfect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon Hammie,” Laurens whispers once his gag is ripped away and the knots to his wrists loosened. Their hands are intertwined and they lean against each other without care; what do they have to fear now? This man already knows. “C’mon, wake up,” he begs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why he cares for this nothing-from-nowhere the hunter will never understand; he takes burdens and makes them sport, that’s the game. Laurens would not have been dragged into this game if he had not crawled into this nothing’s bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have an hour,” he reminds them, meeting Laurens’ furious glare stonily. “By the end of the night you’ll most likely be dead, but you increase your chances of living greatly if you leave that little creole crawling in the snow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We won’t be the ones who die tonight,” the boy colonel spits, “you will. I swear it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hunter smirks, and kicks Hamilton’s legs out from under him, sending them both into the snow. Technically, after all, this is the beginning of the game. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They land together, still entwined, at the hunter’s feet, where they </span>
  <em>
    <span>belong. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dashing boy colonel glares up at him with such fire in his eyes. He'll enjoy dousing those flames.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so.” </span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Alexander cannot run properly, Laurens despairs, the drugs that that fiend slipped them has left him stripped of his sharp senses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John can hardly believe that this is happening, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>lunacy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex and him… they’ve always known the risks, and he always thought that if they were caught - God </span>
  <em>
    <span>forbid </span>
  </em>
  <span>- his end would be met at the end of a noose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because sodomites get hanged, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s nothing around for miles. They passed the nearest town half a day ago, and even that was on horseback. Laurens doesn’t stop to consider finding their horses. This man has likely killed them. No, they’re on their own. Washington likely won’t notice their absence until morning at the very least. If they survive even that long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trees,” Alexander slurs as they run at a pathetic pace. He gestures to one with branches low enough to climb as they enter the woods. It’s a good idea. The snow isn’t deep, but they’re leaving tracks. If they climb into a tree it’ll be harder to follow them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, Hammie,” Laurens leads him to the tree and helps him to the first branch before starting to climb himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then something snaps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John hears the delayed yelp, Alex losing his balance just above him, but out of reach. He falls and the branch goes with him, both hitting the ground with a sickening thud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alex!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rushes to get to him, lowering himself back to the first branch, but he tries to move too quickly and his boots are coated in snow. Laurens slips and falls to the ground too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a sudden, horrible squelch and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain, </span>
  </em>
  <span>pain exploding from his shoulder as it pops away from its socket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s pure and unbridled agony, radiating from his shoulder to what feels like his whole back. He curls in on himself and shouts in pain again, tapering into a wretched sob as he jostles it the wrong way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clamps a hand over his mouth and sobs into it, finding the strength to turn himself over and sit up only because he hears his sweet Alexander groan somewhere beside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The movement nearly blackens his vision and he lets out another hoarse cry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“John…” Alex groans again and whips his head as quickly as he can manage, “John- what’s wrong? Where’re you? Love, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>what’s wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ ‘m okay,” John manages with a grimace, crawling towards Alexander with barely concealed whimpers. “Let’s see Hammie, lemme see…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He comes to his lover’s side, cradling his face gently. Alex grabs hold of his hand, turning his cheek into the comforting touch. His eyes would have been clearing by now if he were not jarred back into the fog by his injury. They cannot waste too much time on gentle caresses, not when they are minutes from being pursued, so John begrudgingly breaks the embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens finds the branch half lying on top of Alexander’s middle and across his side. The end is a clean break- it didn’t snap, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sawed</span>
  </em>
  <span> so the branch would break when weight was added to it. He shoves it to the side and throws open Alexander’s coat. Awkward as it is with one arm completely useless, he has to check for injury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's shivering, they both are, but John has to ignore that for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least there’s no blood. If either of them were to trail blood they’d be too easily followed. Laurens prods at Hamilton’s ribs. The right side is fine, but the left… three of them give when he pushes, and Alex flinches and gasps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to keep moving,” John says, his throat tight at the thought of either of them lasting long now. They’ve been on the run just a few minutes and both of them are injured already. And they’re shivering, both of their coats already wet from the snow. “I’ll help you up. C’mon, easy now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of them are breathing hard by the time they’re on their feet. “M’okay,” Hamilton wheezes against John’s ear, most of his weight against him. “I can- I can walk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they need to run.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens says nothing. They’re both shivering from the cold and pain as he takes Hamilton’s arm across his uninjured shoulder, steels himself, and takes them into the deeper, darker woods.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>He takes his time. Hunts have ended too quickly in the past and it's such a disappointment. He's given the boys their promised time, one hour, and now the snow and gentle breeze have all but covered their tracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Much more of a challenge. It makes the game all the more fun. These boys are clearly cleverer than the average soldier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finds the broken branch, and snow slightly disturbed near the tree line. He smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They're not cleverer than him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tracks that come after the disturbed snow are equally depressed, the boys’ weight distributed evenly on both feet. Shame, they didn’t hurt their legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they’d be slowed down, they’re still in pain, dragging their feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A short ways downhill he spots vomit tinged with blood near another tree. One of them must be hurt worse than he expected. Injured little rabbits, they haven’t gotten far. He’s sure of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clever little rabbits too, they have almost certainly found somewhere to hide. The snow is certainly a detriment, to them, but they won’t have to worry about it for too much longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows that Laurens is too loyal to that little brat to use the shot on himself, or on the bastard, and with their injuries he doubts they’d try the trees again, so that leaves a trap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smirking, he follows the trail, two pistols in their holsters and his rifle out and ready. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rabbits don’t lead him on false trails but these two boys certainly will try. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Up ahead there’s a clearing, he used to have a trap there but with the snow the covering would get too heavy and would fall into the pit, making the stealth of it useless, so in the middle there’s a perfect square dug out, with plenty of unpleasant stakes to fall onto for any lowly creature unfortunate enough to do so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not the previous one but the man before these two met his end that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And clever things, these boys have used the clearing to their advantage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tracks loop and double up on one another, running one direction into the treeline, circling back and running the other, going through the original tracks, over and over, until the hunter does not know and cannot figure out which tracks were the original ones. Cannot even see a clear line to track. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, he knows that they are still around somewhere, because there are no tracks leading away from the clearing. There’s not enough undisturbed snow on the lower branches for them to have gone barrelling through one way or another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An interesting tactic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>petits lapins</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he calls, “but you must know that neither of you are fast enough to get a shot in before I fell you like a deer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes dart around the treeline - maybe they chanced it with climbing again - walking slowly towards the centre of the clearing, where the pit rests, so he can be sure to see when they expose themselves and try and act on this foolish plan they’ve concocted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then a shot rings out, and the hunter feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drops with a cry, holding his shoulder and looking for where the shot came from. He should have been able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see them. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Where-? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs, and looks into the pit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there’s Colonel Laurens, scrambling up the side with cries of pain of his own, using pulled stakes and roots exposed by the rain and snow washing away the dirt to pull himself up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clever </span>
  </em>
  <span>things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except, the smaller of the lovers isn’t there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stashed and hidden somewhere beyond the trees, no doubt, like the coward he is while Laurens lays and springs the trap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The same flood of sharp energy as whenever his prey fights back courses through the hunter’s veins, and his pain feels like </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the face of making the boy that dealt it pay. And surely, this same process has happened for the boy colonel as well - not so unalike are they - because the hunter can </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the deformity to his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands before Laurens manages to, forgetting momentarily about his rifle and advancing on the boy empty-handed. He helps Laurens the last bit out of the pit, grabbing his hair and yanking him out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first scream was taken by his tree trap, but this little yelp sends just the same thrill anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such an ingenious plan,” he hisses, turning the boy over onto his back as he scratches and jerks in his grip. “You’re truly a worthy opponent, hm? You’ve even managed to draw blood. Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jerks the boy’s head, and the motion draws another sharp cry as the displaced shoulder moves with it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s your bedmate? Doesn’t he want to be here? Shouldn’t he be? You’re screaming, after all, and he can’t be bothered to be here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens furrows his brow, not understanding his meaning, still trying to scramble away. The hunter straddles his stomach and shoves at his shoulder, forcing it back into socket roughly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And just as he said, Laurens wails in agony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to be here, you don’t have to play,” the hunter grits, his own pain beginning to return, “I’d keep you if you’d only submit and let me kill your whoreson lover. You’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>intelligent, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Colonel, so full of </span>
  <em>
    <span>potential. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Do not waste it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whether or not the boy hears him through his screaming, the hunter doesn’t know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses a hand against Laurens’ neck, squeezing barely. “Where is he?” No answer, more mindless fighting. “Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>is he?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He squeezes tighter, not enough to cut off air but enough to </span>
  <em>
    <span>burn. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens meets his eye, and he’s not so terrified anymore, not so frantic. Cold. Determined. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won’t have him,” the boy spits, slamming a hand into the hunter’s bullet wound and using the recoil to draw one of his pistols. It’s only years of practice that saves the hunter, his hand reflexively grabbing at Laurens’ wrist and throwing the shot away from his gut. The bullet fires harmlessly into the woods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens adjusts just as quickly, drawing back and slamming the pistol into his attacker’s head, finally released long enough to scramble away and make a break for the trees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he’s gone the hunter laughs. And laughs. And laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never kept one of the creatures he brings here to hunt, but he vows then that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>keep this one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just has to kill his mate. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Laurens runs, half staggering, in pain, dizzy, but determined. He doesn’t linger to see how much damage he caused from the strike. Alexander. He has to get back to him before the hunter can follow. He doesn’t dare call out, but he knows he’s breathing loudly- too loudly. He doesn’t know how quickly the hunter will give chase, but he’s hopefully bought a few minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The snow is deep enough now that it crunches under his weight. John knows he’s leaving footprints. He doesn’t take a direct route, instead a long arc among the thick trees, stopping every so often to distort his tracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It has to be enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they can just make it to sunup, they might make it... They might get to safety. Someone may see them if they can get as far as the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hollowed out tree is one of dozens in a thick patch of forest. If not for the snow on the ground Laurens would not be able to see at all. He approaches slowly, knocking against the side four times. A pattern they’ve used before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hamilton peers out. His jaw drops and tears fill his eyes, like he didn’t expect Laurens to come back. Of course, he’d been mostly unconscious when John hid him here, unable to protest being left behind. Even now he’s barely aware. He’s hurting- they’re both hurting, both freezing past the point of shivering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens moves a step closer and Alexander throws himself into his arms with a wheezing sob and strength he should not have right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave me like that again!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Laurens mutters, clinging to his Hamilton with the arm he can use. He takes a few steps, leading him along. “We need to keep moving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, is he dead?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” John grits his teeth. “I only slowed him down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexander squeezes his hand and shifts closer. Laurens might almost feel warm and safe if only they were somewhere that was either one of those things. But they don’t have time for this now. Once they get away they can hide somewhere they won’t be seen and hold each other as long as they wish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens glances back toward the clearing. Did he hear something? “We need to go, Alex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shot screams through the otherwise quiet of the forest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hamilton abruptly goes taut and then Laurens howls. His voice is already raw. The new pain isn’t his, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels </span>
  </em>
  <span>the blood against his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexander’s knees give out from under him, and it’s all John can do to collapse into the snow with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The snow blooms red and John sobs with it as his fingers leave bloody streaks against the earth. The shot has pierced Alexander’s side, and unless they find </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>his dear Alexander will bleed out right here in this God forsaken forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alex…” his voice shakes with heartbreak and pain. His arms wrap around his lover and pull him close, pressing over the wound, desperate to slow the blood trickling over his fingers. “Alex, love- love </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hamilton groans, tilting his head into John’s chest. He must be hurting his ribs by holding him this way but neither of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>care. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They are freezing to death, Alexander is bleeding out, John’s shoulder may never heal the same and Alexander’s chest is blackened with bruises. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing feels more like dying than this. Nothing will </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>be more painful than this, if his Alexander is taken from him now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“John…” Alex breathes against him, hand twitching in silent request. John takes his hand and places soft kisses over the knuckles, hoping his breath warms them. “Love you… love you…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John wails and hangs his head - they don’t have a hope to survive this, do they? - and presses a gentle kiss to Alexander’s brow, resting his forehead against his love’s. “Love you too Hammie, it’s going- going to be okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because he has to believe, right? Has to believe that they’ll be with each other again, after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he’s ripped away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s his bad shoulder, but that’s not why John screams. He screams because he’s being torn away from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alexander, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>bleeding out. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He has to be there for him, he can’t go- </span>
  <em>
    <span>let him go. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shush now,” that voice, God he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>that voice, soothes from behind him, pressed against his ear, “be quiet now. He wasn’t worth you, you are more, will be more. With me. I’ll make you forget, make you realize that that </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing boy </span>
  </em>
  <span>only ever brought you down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No! </span>
  </em>
  <span>No, let go of me! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Laurens kicks and jerks and fights against him, screaming and wailing with pain of the body and soul. He can barely see Alexander in the darkness, unable even to sit up but reaching out for him nonetheless. “I won’t leave him! No- no </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please- I need him!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no you don’t. That’s his lies, his manipulations. You don’t need him. I’ll show you.” The man is steadily dragging him away, still somehow stronger than Laurens despite his injury. “Shush now, before I have to hurt you more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Be quiet.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Alexander! </span>
  </em>
  <span>No! No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alex! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Please! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alexan-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the man’s hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his cries. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why does he care now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then John hears it, horses, hooves beating against the earth somewhere near. He goes silent as he listens, and upon confirmation he </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He kicks and squirms and does everything to get the hand away from his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone is </span>
  <em>
    <span>close, </span>
  </em>
  <span>someone is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they had to have heard him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please… help us. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hand shifts, thumb and forefinger moving to cover John’s nose and suffocate him. “If you won’t settle down, I’ll settle you down,” the hunter growls. “You’re mine now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens’ heart pounds in his ears as he struggles to draw in air. He can’t. He can’t get away. He can’t struggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t see Alexander anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to scream again, but there’s no sound. His body is desperate for air as black spots start to appear before his eyes. Laurens flails one more time and then his body goes limp, the last of his strength disappearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex… his Alex is going to die out here and all alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, suddenly he can breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John’s vision is hazy, but something moves in his line of sight. A monster- no, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>horse!</span>
  </em>
  <span> A horse with a rider.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What in the world is going on here? Release him!” The grip tightens, the hunter won’t let go. The form reaches for his side. “Release him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or I’ll shoot you down where you stand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something clicks in his mind. Laurens knows that voice. Lafayette. A blurry form dismounts from the horse and the hunter is forced to let go of him as he retreats a few steps. John collapses forwards onto his hands and knees, taking great heaving gulps of air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Al-Alex,” Laurens croaks, pointing with a trembling arm back where they came from. Where they’d left Alexander bleeding in the snow. “H-h-he needs help.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hunter growls at John’s perceived betrayal, but Lafayette raises his pistol before he can reach for John again. “Step away from him. Get on your knees.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moments later the hunter’s wrists are bound and tied to the saddle of Lafayette’s horse. John stumbles along the other side through the unfamiliar trees, refusing to sit in the saddle. He needs to get to Alex. When the snow starts to turn red he staggers ahead, almost falling twice as he struggles his way forward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait here a moment,” Lafayette catches him at one point, leaning him carefully against a tree not far from the horse. “I’ll see to Alexander.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-he’s hurt,” John gasps, “shot. Broken ribs… Gil, help ‘im, please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The forest is truly in darkness now, and Lafayette carries a torch from his saddlebags to see. John cannot just </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait </span>
  </em>
  <span>and stumbles along with him, leaving the hunter briefly alone. Laurens nearly sobs with relief when he sees his dear Alexander still breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Washington was not far behind me,” Lafayette mutters as he examines Alexander. “He should have his sword or dagger to cauterize this wound.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John nods, the sparks of hope flickering alight in his chest once more. “You think he can survive this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope so, mon ami, if the general is quick about finding us. He must have heard the screaming as well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laurens takes the torch in his good arm as Gilbert gently lifts Alexander into his arms. He barely even stirs in his unconscious state. John feels ready to collapse himself, exhausted and scared and haunted by the events of the evening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They will need Washington’s horse, John cannot walk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can barely speak, his throat is raw and abused from tonight’s horrors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the torchlight the paleness of his skin is more visible, the blue tinge to his and Alexander’s lips. Lafayette frowns and wraps Laurens in his cloak. “Not long now,” he whispers, listening for the telltale sound of hoofbeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They huddle together, Lafayette puts pressure on Alexander’s wound and pulls him close, and John presses close too, bathing them all in the miniscule heat of the torch, basking in Lafayette’s body heat. The shivering comes back, eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They just have to wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hunter watches them, his eyes dark. “Leave that thing in the snow, Marquis, you should know better,” he spits. “I only take the ones that deserve to be taken, the ones that should be put down. The general doesn’t need scum like that creole bastard on his staff!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up before I gag you,” Gilbert snarls, especially when he feels John tense and press himself closer. In the light from the torch Lafayette’s eyes seem like tiny flames themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you know what they </span>
  <em>
    <span>are? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What they </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” John’s breath catches, even though Gilbert does indeed </span>
  <em>
    <span>know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If this man is arrested he will tell everyone; Alexander and him will be hanged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said shut up!” Gilbert steps forward, and another shot rings out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because John had not known the hunter had carried a pistol, a rifle, and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second pistol. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And all he can do is cry out as Gilbert drops from a shot to the thigh. Those can be </span>
  <em>
    <span>just as deadly </span>
  </em>
  <span>as ones to the chest or neck. John looks up, warm blood coating his hands for the second time this evening, and the hunter is </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiling. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just you and I, Colonel,” he grins, “as I said it would be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are hoofbeats in the distance now, Washington's come back for them. At last, thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>God.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” John takes Gilbert’s pistol from where he and Alex now lay in the snow, both slowly  staining it red. He takes aim, always a marksman, perfectly pointed at the hunter’s head. “Just me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fires. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We hope you enjoyed this piece, it came from a game Kay and I do sometimes of pulling numbers from a random number generator and getting the correlating whump prompt for BTHB's whump list! This piece was inspired by 'Please don't leave me' and 'Deadly Game.' </p>
<p>Please leave a comment and tell us your thoughts, we love getting them. And if you want to come say hi to us on Tumblr we have those too!<br/><a href="https://accidentally-a-writer.tumblr.com">Avie's Tumblr</a><br/><a href="https://stegekay.tumblr.com">Kay's Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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